


Yours Ardently

by queenofthewips (lilithduvare)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940s, Angst, Bucky Barnes Feels, Captain America: The First Avenger, Deep feelings, Happy Ending, M/M, PWP, Period-Typical Homophobia, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Reference to Torture, Romance, Self-Worth Issues, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 12:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7893355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithduvare/pseuds/queenofthewips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Just let me have this. This one time.”<br/>"Always."<br/>Steve came for him and saved him from whatever horror that doctor and his assistants had planned for him. Saved him from something much worse than death.<br/>With his new perfect body.<br/>Bulging muscles.<br/>And insane strength.<br/>It has never been more clear how much he doesn't deserve Steve Rogers. It still doesn't stop him from staking his claim even if only one last time.</p><p>Or, how Steve and Bucky's real reunion happened after Bucky's rescue when the cameras weren't rolling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yours Ardently

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SulaSafeRoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SulaSafeRoom/gifts), [littleblackfox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackfox/gifts), [FowlProse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FowlProse/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A formal letter of thank you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874815) by [SulaSafeRoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SulaSafeRoom/pseuds/SulaSafeRoom). 



> This is an adoration filled response to Sula's gorgeous art. Or more like the fleshed out version of the outline she based her art on, but it doesn't matter. It's all the result of one of the best sessions at the SBBB 2016 skype chat anyway. Basically this started out as an attempt to redeem the horrible Captain America Porn Parody (gay version - if you feel like you need to see it, feel free to contact me) by writing a new script and somehow kickstart it and do a collab work with CockyBoys and Tayte Hanson as Bucky. Then the outline for the script got away from me and it was requested to be turned into a real story. 
> 
> So enjoy.
> 
> And check out the art, it's amazing. And also check out Sula's [Tumblr](http://sulasaferoom.tumblr.com), she's one of the best artists I've ever seen. Also read [Fox's stories](http://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackfox/pseuds/littleblackfox), they're all wonderful. And [Lys' stories](http://archiveofourown.org/users/FowlProse/pseuds/FowlProse) too because she's crazy talented.

Steve insisted on bunking with him. This new Steve with his perfect body to go along with his zealous need to do good, to do the right thing. Bucky can’t decide what to think, his body still aching from the everlasting craziness that little, toad-faced doctor inflicted on him with his beady eyes burning with sick hunger behind his round glasses. Eyes that haunt Bucky in his dreams whenever he lets himself fall asleep. The reminder makes him clench his jaw hard enough to hurt, but it’s still preferable to the full body shudder that threatens to wrack his body with the force of his disgust.

Maybe it would have been better if his body had rejected whatever poison they kept injecting him. If he had followed the countless men before him to death. But no, he had to survive and then come back to himself to the sight of a mirage. Of a Steve who couldn’t be real with his impossible height and wide shoulders, but actually was. And still is. Because Steve came for him and saved him from whatever horror that doctor and his assistants had planned for him. Saved him from something much worse than death.

Now, here he is, in Steve’s almost lavish tent fit for an officer of his new real rank, getting special treatment just because he has known the great Captain America all his life. It should be funny really, his own stupidity and blindness. Not that there was any chance for him to realize what Steve had gotten himself into. Because who in their right mind would have thought about their best friend signing up for some insane human experiment program that could as easily kill him as turn him into a super soldier. And the hero he always wanted to be. Right. Bucky should have realized that Steve would do it in a heartbeat. Especially after four very clear rejection from the Army.

It doesn’t really matter now, does it? Not like Bucky could have done anything to stop Steve’s stubborn ass from getting himself killed. Not from an ocean and an entire continent away. Or from next to him if he is being honest with himself. Bucky could never stop Steve from doing anything, no matter how crazy it was. Steve always charged into dangerous situations head first, getting beaten up in alleys for mouthing off to the wrong people. Getting his ass kicked by guys twice or four times his size and never knowing when to give up. And it was always left up to Bucky to save Steve’s skinny ass——and now Steve returned the favor.

With his new perfect body.

Bulging muscles.

And insane strength.

Bucky starts at the sudden touch of long arms encircling his waist from behind, nerves going haywire with the need to retaliate, to counter the attack that’s… not coming. The arms are strong and corded with heavy muscle, but embrace him with a delicateness that brings forth the memory of dim nights spent in a shoe box of an apartment, getting lost in hitching, breathy moans and the constant worry of something going wrong even as he continued to thrust into the loved, slight body of his best friend.

His best guy.

The man standing behind him is and isn’t the same man who always welcomed him home with a bright if tired smile after a long day of whatever job Bucky was trying to keep for more than a week at that time. This Steve is taller than Bucky and has more power in a single hand than Bucky has in his entire body, yet the embrace is the same as ever down to the fact that Bucky doesn’t deserve it in the least. Maybe even less than before.

So he tries to move away. Tries to step out of the undeniable hold Steve’s touch has over him, but those arms keep holding onto him. Like always. They tighten around his stomach and pull him closer to the firmness of Steve’s new body just as Steve’s high forehead presses against the back of Bucky’s neck, his nose brushing the vertebrae sticking out of his tatter shirt. He feels so solid and alien behind him that Bucky has to turn around and make sure he hasn’t fallen into some sick hallucination induced by one of the drugs they kept pumping him full at that base. He can barely believe that it’s him who has to tilt his head back, even if only a little, to look Steve in the eyes. But the color of that gaze is just the same as it used to be back in Brooklyn when Steve’s larger than life personality was forced to hide in a failing sack of skin and bones. The blue of those eyes glitter with relief in the dim light of the gaslight placed on the low table next to Steve’s cot as a large, long-fingered hand cradles Bucky’s face and a slow smile turns up the corner of Steve’s lips.

“How—”

“Don’t. Just don’t,” Bucky cuts him off before he could ask that hateful question and force him to lie. “Just let me have this. This one time.” And he isn’t thinking of that dame with stars in her eyes and the way Steve looked back at her when they arrived. He isn’t. He just wants to enjoy what little time he got left with Steve, enjoy being the sole focus of his attention this one last time. He silently vows to step aside after this moment, allow Steve to live the life he always wanted and deserves more than anyone. But this once, just this once he wants to believe Steve is still his even in his new, godlike form.

“Always,” Steve promises, and the honesty filling that word shouldn’t hurt so much. But it twists the invisible knife in Bucky’s already bleeding heart, because he knows he could never ask that of Steve. Not with someone else finally noticing his greatness. Not with the promise of a grand future in front of him. Not with the near certainty that Bucky’s always is going to be measured in meager months, a year or two at best. Still, he doesn’t argue, just watches silently as Steve closes the gap between their lips, the touch of his warm mouth familiar enough to leave Bucky stand there in wide eyed wonder. He doesn’t know why he expected Steve’s kiss to be different, but he belatedly realizes that he did.

It isn’t. It holds the same tentativeness it did the first time Steve pressed his chapped lips against Bucky’s equally dry mouth in the overheated living room of Steve’s childhood home what feels like eons ago. It’s a gentle kiss, gauging Bucky’s reaction and fully expecting to be rejected. It’s mindful and painfully gentle, and Bucky wants none of it. He doesn’t need to be treated like he’s about to break. He wants to have everything Steve can offer to him. He wants to get lost in the new power being restrained by Steve’s ridiculous need to coddle him.

Like Bucky used to do to him.

Bucky wants to roll his eyes at their ridiculousness, but instead he lets them slip shut and presses deeper into Steve, swiping his tongue against the soft plushness of Steve’s lips, silently urging him to open up and allow him access. He wants to explore every inch of Steve’s new form, starting from heat of his mouth that doesn’t hold the hint of acidic taint it used to before his change. There is no reminder left of past illnesses as Bucky sucks on Steve’s tongue, no warning hitch of an impending asthma attack even when the kiss deepens even more and goes on for longer than it probably should. But Bucky can’t get enough of the new, pure spiciness of Steve’s mouth, the lack of bitterness making him even more eager to memorize the flavor that belongs to Steve to the last nuance.

Steve responds in kind, his fingers spasming against the side of Bucky’s head, an involuntary gesture that only spurs Bucky on. He pushes his hand under the funny flag-like uniform top covering Steve’s torso and rucks up the cheap fabric, devouring the smooth skin covered hard ridges of Steve’s stomach muscles. The process of his own body’s transformation during basic training and then fighting in the war has nothing on the full, steel-like hardness of Steve’s stomach where only hollowed skin was before. It’s a revelation to find out how much he likes the prospect the changes could mean for them. Yes, he loved and still loves Steve in his old body. Loves the fragile, oddly bent bones and the way his fingers almost reached around the thinness of Steve’s waist. He loves the ethereal translucence of Steve’s skin that used to be lined with blue veins so heavily that Bucky could believe he was touching, tasting the blood vessels directly whenever he explored Steve’s body.  But he is also mesmerized by the firmness and the chance to do whatever he wishes. To stop holding back and bury himself inside Steve’s very core until he can never think of anyone else, never exist without the memory of Bucky ever again. Not even when he will touch that woman, the agent.

The sight of the pale gold muscles painted in muted light and heavy shadows takes his breath away. Steve has always been unearthly beautiful, but now he looks like a real god, so above humanity. Above Bucky. And yet, here he is, looking down at Bucky with almost fearful eyes, once again expecting rejection. As if his new form is hideous, unacceptable because it’s so vastly different from what Bucky remembers.

Bucky can’t have that.

It’s so easy to slide his hands up to Steve’s chest, sinking his teeth into his lower lip to hide his smirk when Steve’s heartbeat drums heavily under his palm, breath hitching as Bucky’s thumb brushes against dusty nipples. He stares up into darkening blues coyly and takes a step forward, a step that forces Steve to step back. The sturdy wooden table is only a few steps away, so Bucky walks them up to it and pushes Steve against the hard edge of the wood, allowing it to dig into the back of Steve’s thick thighs. For a second he allows himself to imagine those thighs wrapped around him, squeezing his ribs as he fucks into Steve, harder than he ever dared before, before he turns his attention back onto the silken expanse of skin before him. He wants to devour Steve from inside out, so he leans in for another kiss, humming in satisfaction when Steve eagerly kisses back, pushing his tongue into Bucky’s mouth as soon as Bucky parts his lips to deepen the kiss himself.

The grip biting into his hip is delicious enough to draw a muffled moan from Bucky and make him bite down on Steve’s swelling lower lip hard. Steve hisses and  tries to pull back a little, the flesh of his lips stretching against the hold of Bucky’s teeth. Bucky wants to hold onto it a little longer, but he chooses to let go and gently bite into the regale line of Steve’s jaw. The skin feels slightly sandpapery with the shadow of Steve’s stubble he always religiously shaves away come morning, but Bucky loves the slight imperfection that’s so stark against the smoothness of the rest of him. His tongue peaks out to soothe the bite, shivering at the rasp against his sensitive taste buds.

He kisses down Steve’s neck, sampling him inch by inch and feeling like he just can’t get enough. Steve’s skin is near scorching against Bucky’s lips and tongue, tasting like hot sweat, sweaty and masculine, but with a hint of sweetness under the layer of grime that was a parting gift from Hydra and fighting for their lives. It drives Bucky wild with want. He can’t help himself as he sucks a harsh bite into Steve’s neck, drawing the fluttering pulse point into his mouth with every intention to leave behind the same dark marks he always left behind whenever he felt the need to make sure everyone around them knew Steve was not available. It was selfish back then, and it’s practically insane now, but that still doesn’t stop him from breaking the skin and coating his lips and teeth with the tang of Steve’s blood.

The mark he leaves behind looks angry in its red stained purpling indentation, only to fade away before Bucky’s very eyes while he’s too busy to admire his work. His eyes snap up to look at Steve whose lids are at half-mast, gaze laden with desire and lips open on tiny gasps that Bucky want to kiss away until there is nothing left but his presence and the desperate need for air. Then Steve’s cheeks stretch into a cheeky smile even as his stare remains heavy and wanton.

“I heal faster now,” he says, voice breathy. “You gotta try harder.”

The challenge ignites Bucky’s need and sets his blood to fire. The way he yanks Steve’s head down to meet his lips is almost savage just like his kiss is more fitting to a predator than to a human, but he couldn’t care less. He needs to stake his claim, show the world who Steve belongs to. He needs to remind Steve that he is Bucky’s both in body and soul. That even when he steps aside he will never let go of Steve.

“Sir, yes, sir,” he growls against the same spot that just healed when he manages to tear himself away from Steve’s enticing and eager mouth, basking in the half-bitten off groan that follows him. He leaves a path of harsh if quickly fading marks down Steve’s upper body, sucking and tearing at the still easily bruising skin. He’s desperate to drink in all the little signs of Steve’s pleasure despite Steve’s attempts to contain the noises that bubble up in his throat when Bucky’s mouth latches onto a well-known sensitive spot. Bucky holds back nothing, throws the reservations about breaking Steve away with abandon, and by the time he is kneeling on the hard concrete between Steve’s parted legs, his fingers tearing at the fastenings of Steve’s trousers, Steve looks debauched and the hard line of his erection is straining against the durable fabric, inviting Bucky to have a taste.

“Buck…” Steve sighs, putting a hand onto Bucky’s shoulder like so many times before. “I want—”

“Shh, just let me,” Bucky cuts in, nuzzling cheek and lips against the hardness in front of him. He makes a quick work of Steve’s pants, his fingers trembling with wretched anticipation by the time they curl around the heavy, velvety length and he can’t believe it’s real. That he gets to do this after… everything. “You’re here, Stevie,” he whispers, his hot breath wafting over the twitching dick in his hand. His gaze cuts up to meet Steve’s watchful stare, the need to check he is fine is second nature after all this time. “My Stevie, you came.”

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice is broken as he says his name. “I could never leave my best guy.”

The noise that leaves Bucky at those words cannot be classed as human, but he’s beyond caring at that point. He looks back down at the flushed dick that looks just like he remembers, but remembering is not enough. He has to explore it, learn it cell by cell with his fingers, his tongue, his throat. He licks his lips eagerly even as his hands strokes up from the hilt, thumb following the hard ridge to the glans until it brushes the flaring edge of the head gently. Steve’s knuckles are white against the edge of the table and he is breathing harshly from such little stimulation. It never ceases to amaze Bucky how sensitive he is and it urges him to continue with his examination.

He caresses, strokes, squeezes, changing pressure and speed to see Steve’s reactions, to see if he still likes the same things and if Bucky pushing his nail into the slit still leaves him with his knees buckling. It does. But there are also subtle changes too. Like the way his cock twitches and leaks pearly liquid when Bucky brushes the edge of his nail against the underside of the head. And the way he whimpers when Bucky cradles his balls and squeezes. He keeps biting back his moans just like old times, reminding Bucky’s hungry mind just how dangerous what they are doing is. Except the danger only seems to fuel his lust and he’s practically salivating to get his mouth on the shiny length.

He makes sure he’s watching Steve’s face when his wraps his lips around the head of Steve’s dick, humming with the familiarity of the weight and loving the deep groan that breaks free of Steve’s waning self-control when Bucky gives an experimental suck. He doesn’t allow Steve to get used to his mouth on him, instead he immediately follows the shallow suck with a deeper one, chasing the taste of precome that floods his mouth and coats his tongue. It’s nothing like he remembers. And why should it be? After all, this time Steve’s body is free of the poisonous medicine that used to keep him alive. Steve’s healthy and it has turned his taste unexpectedly crisp. The tangy, clean saltiness that stimulates Bucky’s taste buds is nothing like the old bitter, watery flavor he always associated with having Steve in his mouth, and he finds himself adoring the unpolluted freshness of it all, gorging himself on as much as possible with lengthy licks and sucks, not wasting even a single drop.

He allows Steve’s cock to slide deep into his throat, palming his ass to pull him close until Bucky’s nose is buried in the coarse dark blond hairs framing Steve’s groin, his appreciative moans echoing the distorted noises leaving Steve’s mouth. One of Steve’s hands pushes into his hair, tangling in the dirty, messy locks that haven’t seen real care besides ice cold water for months. The strain against his scalp is wonderful, the pinpricks of pain make his dick throb in his pants, but Bucky ignores his own need to keep pleasuring Steve. To get as much of him as possible. He is relentless in his quest to submerge himself in everything Steve Rogers down to the tiniest shiver of his core. He closes his eyes in delight when the fingers in his hair clench at a particularly hard suck that’s accompanied by a brush against the underside of Steve’s balls, repeating the movement again and again until Steve’s thighs starts to tremble in earnest and a heavy grip clamps down on Bucky’s shoulders, the bruising warning leaving its pulsating mark behind.

Bucky ignores Steve’s considerate efforts and keeps licking and sucking on the hardness in his mouth, breathlessly awaiting his reward for his hard work. Steve feels impossibly hard and even without his heeding Bucky would know he is on the brink of coming just from the way his balls have drawn up like they always did before he lost his fight against the need for relief. He was always stubborn about coming too soon, battling with himself as much as Bucky on not having enough stamina and why Bucky always insisted on sucking him until he couldn’t control himself anymore. This time, Bucky has no patience for arguments. He’s aching to be filled with Steve’s come, and he won’t stop until he devoured everything Steve can offer.

So he starts stroking Steve’s dick alongside his sucks, his pace brutal and unforgiving. Steve’s is still trying to muffle his moans with his teeth. Looking up, Bucky can see that his lips are coated in a heavy layer of red where he tore into the soft, sensitive skin of his lips. He pushes the tip of his tongue as deep into the slit as it would fit in an upstroke and all it takes for Steve to throw his head back, all inhibitions abandoned, and come with heavy, creamy spurts in Bucky’s mouth.

Bucky licks him clean, unwilling to let anything go to waste, loving the almost complaining little whines that resonate in Steve’s throat and the shudders of oversensitivity that wrack his body. By the time Bucky stands up, after getting rid of Steve’s booths and trousers with little to no cooperation from Steve, his best friend is slumped against the table, eyes closed and bloodied yet perfectly healed lips parted on hungry gasps. He is a vision in his glistening, naked form. The planes of his muscles cut an entirely different but no less beautiful picture than his pale, bony expanse of skin used to, but the blazing, almost divine core is still the same Bucky fell in love with a lifetime ago. And he can do nothing but bask in the glory of the man he loves more than anything in this world, reverently watching the smooth if rapid fall of a wide expanse of chest that used to be hollowed and riddled with hacking coughs. It’s a blessing, a miracle that makes Bucky want to kiss that doctor’s feet who saw beyond the weakling package and gave a chance to the grandness of Steve Rogers. He still isn’t sure it’s not just an elaborate hallucination, but even if it is, Bucky doesn’t want to wake up.

Ever.

He swallows heavily when Steve’s eyes slowly open, the lazy contentment in his gaze caressing Bucky’s heart like a real touch. Steve straightens up with visible effort, then leans forward to pull Bucky close with a still slightly shaky hand by the waistband on Bucky’s pants. Their bodies mold together and Steve’s gasp gets lost in a ravenous kiss that forces his mouth open and invaded by Bucky’s tongue. Bucky wants him to taste the difference in himself and know that Bucky accepts and loves him with the effects the changes has brought. There is no desperation now, just eager reassurance and desire to have more. To have everything.

 Making a quick work on unfastening his own trousers is easier said than done with the way Steve’s hands roam under his ratty shirt, fingers caressing the still somewhat raw skin with painful gentleness that cause his eyes to burn. So Bucky clenches them shut, then pushes his finally open pants down to his thighs with more force than intended. He pushes Steve up on the table with his legs held open by Bucky’s hands, and looks down to savor the debauched sight in front of him. Glazed blue eyes watch him from under heavy lashes, the invitation blatant in them.

“Stay here,” Bucky manages to get out and takes a nearly stumbling step back much to Steve’s displeasure.

“Where are you going?” he asks, a hand grabbing Bucky’s arm and a frown marring his face. One that Bucky has to smooth away with a kiss and a nuzzle against Steve’s neck.

“Just a second,” Bucky promises, with a last kiss against the hollow of Steve’s throat.

He finds the jar of vaseline in the pack every returning soldier received after returning to the base. He grabs the jar and hurries back to Steve who is following him with his eyes, propped up on his elbows. His legs are still spread wide, drawing Bucky’s attention to his flaccid cock and the pucker of his opening that are put on gorgeous display in this position. The tidal wave of want that crashes over him makes his own dick ache, and he has to grab the base, giving himself a few light strokes to elevate the sweet pain somewhat.

The look Steve throws him is nothing short of devouring and Bucky can’t help the cocky grin the curls at his lips or the quick swipe of the tip of his tongue over them, just to rile Steve and himself up even more. Stepping back between Steve’s legs, he puts the jar in a safe distance from them, but only after opening it. He doesn’t take his eyes away from Steve, watching as his best friend watch him while he coats his fingers in the slick substance. He raises an eyebrow in question, which earns him a huff and a heavily judging eye roll before Steve angles his hips to give him a better access to his ass.

“Answer enough?” he asks cheekily, only to bite back a curse when Bucky brushes the tip of his dick against his opening, first in retaliation then as a promise.   

Bucky doesn’t wait for a verbal response, just pushes his middle finger past the tight ring of muscles without moving his dick away, smearing his precome over Steve’s anus and perineum, and enjoying the flutters of Steve’s body. He quietly groans at the delicious grip of the contracting muscles sucking his finger in and thought of how it would feel around his cock makes his erection throb with need. He refuses to be rushed, experimenting with the thrusts of his finger the same way he did with his lips, no matter how much he just wants to ram his cock in and fuck Steve raw. Steve’s hips start to move, pushing back on his finger and against his dick in a silent demand for more, and Bucky just can’t allow that.

“Stay still,” he orders, tone harsh and raspy, causing Steve’s eyes to widen and his breath to hitch.

His cock, already half hard again on his stomach twitch and fill out more, while his fingers claw against the smooth surface of the table, but in the end he forces his body to still. Bucky keeps fucking him with a single finger, the digit brushing against his own dick and heightening his desire. Steve’s breathing is speeding up with every stroke, and the moan that falls off his lips when Bucky finds his prostate is positively wrecked. The sound goes straight to Bucky’s cock, and he can’t help the way his hips thrust forward, pushing his need against the underside of Steve’s balls, groaning at the feel. He presses his finger a little harder against the nub of nerves, rubbing them mercilessly to draw increasingly louder noises from Steve.

He ignores the half-hearted glare Steve throws him. They’re still relatively quiet enough for the thick material of the tent and the rain pelting against it to hide the sordidness of their actions, and it’s not like anyone would barge into Captain America’s tent in the dead of the night unless they were under attack. Which they aren’t. So Bucky just smirks back at Steve and jabs his finger harder against his prostate to emphasize his point.

Steve’s hips twitch.

Bucky’s grin turns wide and he would bet feral, if the look on Steve’s face is anything to go by. He pulls his finger out, leaving Steve’s hole gape hungrily for more. Steve whines and bares his teeth, eyes blazing. He opens his mouth, probably to deliver some bratty quip, but only manages to groan when Bucky slaps the round flesh of his ass.

“I said, stay still,” Bucky says, voice low and barely recognizable even to his own ears.

Steve moans through his gritted teeth, his expression flashing with equal parts lust and frustration. After a few seconds of staring into Bucky’s eyes, silently searching for something, he nods and leans back even more, his forearms straining with the effort. Bucky needs another moment to gather his self control, squeezing his cock hard, before he can resume his work. He adds more vaseline, making sure his fingers are nice and slick with it, then pushes both his index and middle finger into Steve’s hole, watching Steve bite down harshly on his lower lip, but it’s not enough to contain his pleasure.

His erection twitches restlessly against his taut stomach in its shiny glory, and Bucky can’t refuse the shiny invitation it presents. He leans down and wraps his lips around the head, teasingly scraping his teeth against the delicate skin. The moan that escapes Steve is downright obscene, the sound scaling down Bucky’s spine and making him ache.

“Do you want this?” he rasps as he pulls off, chasing Steve’s taste with his tongue. He leans forward and pushes his erection against Steve’s opening where his fingers are still buried to his knuckles. “Need to use your words, Steve,” he adds when Steve only whimpers in answer.

“P-please, Bu…Bucky.” Steve’s stutter is barely coherent, his eyelids fluttering against the stimulus of Bucky’s fingers brushing over and over his prostate.

He quells Steve’s protests with a kiss as he pulls his fingers free of that greedy channel. His free hand reaches up to take hold of the nape of Steve’s neck, so he can deepen the kiss and pour his want, his adoration, his love into Steve’s mouth. So he can show him how much he means to Bucky. Steve pulls  Bucky down to lie half on top of him and wounds his fingers through Bucky’s hair, his eyes wide open but unfocused.

“Please,” he pants against Bucky’s lips when they pull apart, and Bucky can only nod, too far gone for words.

It takes all his already frayed self-control to cover his cock in vaseline and align it with Steve’s hole. He starts pushing in, slowly, torturing both of them. Steve’s nails are gouging the wooden surface of the table, and his entire body vibrates in an echo of Bucky’s burning need. The warmth enveloping Bucky’s cock inch by inch is maddeningly tight, gripping his cock as if it wanted to milk him dry, and Bucky has to lean down and bury his face in Steve’s neck to muffle his greedy moans. He wants to snap his hip forward and fill Steve to his core with a single move, but he forces himself to go slow and savor the feeling no matter how much it is driving them both insane.

His breath dampens Steve’s sweat slick skin further as he pants into the curve of Steve’s neck, but after seemingly endless minutes he finds himself sheathed fully in Steve’s addicting heat. The feeling brings up old memories of the countless nights they spent lost in each other, back when they both were young and innocent. The image of Steve writhing under him, waiflike and breakable, with his nails biting deeply into Bucky’s neck as Bucky fucked into him slowly, careful not to cause even the slightest damage makes him raise his head no matter how much effort it takes.

The Steve under him couldn’t be further from breakable, yet as he lies on the table under Bucky, spread out and vulnerable, with his hazed gaze peeking up from under his lashes, Bucky knows this is homecoming. The thought makes his throat close up, and he isn’t sure he will be able to move from the onslaught of emotions crashing over him. He has to close his eyes, to hide from the world and the tears that threaten to spill. Steve can’t see him like this. This weak. This broken. Steve has to remember him as the man who was and will be always by his side. Someone he can rely on and trust.

Then long fingers graze one of his cheeks, drawing him away from his dark thoughts and back to the god who offered himself to him so willingly. Steve’s look is tender like his touch, and despite the rapid rise and fall of his chest the smile stretching his lips is full of caring and love. The tips of his fingers sink into the hair at the side of Bucky’s head, allowing his palm to cradle Bucky’s face who is weak enough to lean into the gentle touch.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispers, his voice almost drown out by the heavy rain pelting the tent above them. “You’re here… you’re safe. And I’m with you—”

“—to the end of the line,” Bucky finishes the oath he gave years ago, sealing it with a kiss filled with desperation and so much longing.

“Yes,” Steve pants. “Please, Buck…” he pleads and Bucky’s hips push into him even deeper instinctively, causing Steve’s ass to clench around him and leave them both wild with want.

His hands move on their own accord, grabbing Steve’s thighs to spread him open as wide as possible, then he starts to thrust, building up the rhythm with shallow little pushes, ones that quickly turn into deep, forceful strokes. His dick is painfully hard, and the pleasure mercilessly clawing into his spine tells him it won’t take long before he loses control… not after everything. So he lets go one of Steve’s legs and curls his hand around the hardness slapping against Steve’s stomach with every one of his harsh thrusts. He squeezes the enticingly wet length once, just to tease, before he starts stroking, quickly finding the cadence his cock dictates.   

He forgets how to breathe, the need for oxygen secondary behind the absolute hunger that has taken over his brain, blinding him for anything else beyond his chase for the ecstasy Steve’s body, his closeness, his perfect surrender offers him. The pleasure that explodes behind his eyes if too much to take, and his lids slip shut for a second before he forces them open with Herculean effort to watch the entrancing sight Steve makes. His blond head is thrown back, opening up the graceful tendons of his long neck. A slow trickle of red is seeping down the forearm that’s covering his mouth, a sign that he has bitten himself too deep to curb his cries and moans. The wrecked, freely wanton sight he makes proves to be Bucky’s undoing, and he has little to no warning before he comes hard and deep inside Steve’s pulsing channel.

His thoughts and fears get lost under the earth shattering force of unadulterated abandon that comes with the knowledge that Steve is his and no one can take away the mark Bucky left deep in him. His body sags forward, suddenly boneless with relief, and he barely catches himself from crashing into Steve whose eyes now are squeezed shut, his cock in Bucky’s hand still hard and waiting for release.

Bucky kisses the arm separating their lips with a small smile, and tightens the grip on Steve’s erection, reclaiming the unforgiving pace of his strokes. He nudges away the barrier between them with his nose to drink down Steve’s pleasured moans that turn into a silent, hitched cry a moment later, when Steve’s dick starts to pulse in his grip and sprout ropes of come over both of their stomachs, staking Steve’s claim with blatant clearness. Steve’s entire body is trembling with the aftershocks, and it takes Bucky with preciously long moment of kissing in lazy contentment he thought he had forgotten to realize he still hasn’t pulled out of Steve’s fluttering hole.

The spasming muscles ignite little sparks in the back of his head and send lustful shivers down his spine, but his body isn’t ready yet, and he can’t get hard again so soon after such an intense orgasm. Still, they mouth at each other, trading sloppy, lazy kisses as Steve slowly gets back to himself. His blue eyes open to reflect the vulnerability that’s still eating away at Bucky’s heart under the balmy waves of pleasure, but it’s a vulnerability matched by the same love neither of them ever dared to proclaim with words. A love that never fails to leave Bucky disoriented and greedy for more, despite knowing he could and will never deserve someone as good as Steve Rogers.    

If he was a better man, he would step aside just like he promised himself earlier. But Bucky was always a horrible, greedy man, too selfish to allow anyone to have Steve. So, instead of doing what is right, he just kisses Steve again, slow and tender, and tries his best to tell him how much he means to him without words. And Steve gets it, of course, like he always did. He kisses Bucky back just as gentlly and lovingly, embracing Bucky with all his flaws and unworthiness.

Kisses with an impossible promise of forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this story, I hope you liked it. Reviews of course are always appreciated and feel free to join me on Tumblr ([queenofthewips](http://queenofthewips.tumblr.com)).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [A formal letter of thank you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7874815) by [SulaSafeRoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SulaSafeRoom/pseuds/SulaSafeRoom)




End file.
